


The One Thing We Can't Do

by AltairYourHairOut (LokishaLaufeyfey)



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: AltMal, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokishaLaufeyfey/pseuds/AltairYourHairOut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Altair is an instructor at a rock gym.  Nobody believes he can teach a one-armed man to climb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Thing We Can't Do

The rock gym was closed.  It’d been closed longer than Altair was currently keeping track of, and he suspected that hours may have passed since the last of his coworkers had packed up to go home. 

It wasn’t even his night to lock up.  Rauf had offered to pay him back for it, but Altair declined.  He was paid well already, being the most requested instructor in the gym.  It wasn’t about extra hours. 

This wasn’t the first time he’d stayed late into the night.  For the past three days he’d stay up, climbing the wall over and over and over, trying to somehow _find a way, any way._

_  
Nobody could teach a one armed man to climb, Altair.  Not even you._

_  
_He had tried it himself.  He’d drop his left arm to his side, grip tight with his other.  He’d dig his feet into the crevices between the manmade rocks, close to his hand.  And then he’d jump to the next rock, but he’d be off balance and slip, and he’d catch himself with his left hand.

No matter how he tried he couldn’t get himself to keep his arm by his side in the split second of panic. 

He let out a grunt of frustration, kicking the wall, then a hiss of pain as his toe crashed against it.  Snarling, he dropped to the ground, landing in a squat to absorb the impact.  He stayed there for a moment - longer than he usually would have.  And he ran each attempt through his head, trying to remember the mistakes that caused him to fall- but they were far too varied and blurred, and too numerous. 

_Perhaps this was the one thing he could not do._

_  
_…

That thought hit him hard enough to get him onto his feet. 

Because if Altair could not do this, if he could not figure it out _himself_ , what hope would there be for Malik?

And suddenly it was not about Altair anymore.  It was not his pride, not his reputation, not his skill on the line.  If he could not make it to the top, he could no longer tell Malik that he could do anything.  Because there would always be a _something_ that he couldn’t.

_This would **not** be the one thing Malik could not do._

_  
_He fumbled through his storage room- bringing out an extra piece of rope- an old one they had used for climbing before they were replaced.  And he tied it around his wrist, then pulled that behind his back to tie to his belt loop.  He struggled with it for a time, as it was difficult to do with one free hand, and then tugged, smiling to himself as it held tight.

Altair reached up to take a small red rock in his hand, hoisting himself off the ground to catch a blue one with his foot- this time keeping it far enough away that he could balance against the wall without toppling backwards.  His second foot he put only slightly above the first, but further to the side, allowing him to bend his knees a bit. And then he pushed off, releasing the red stone in his hand as he propelled upward. 

He nearly brought himself to tears as he caught it, hanging by one hand, feet dangling beneath him.  And he placed them- just as he did before, and he did it again. 

And again. 

And then he came to do it once more- to grab the red shell-shaped one - and he realized he had reached the upper third of the wall.  So he jumped, leaping exactly as he had the past several stones.

Except this time he overshot, and he felt the rope behind tighten around his wrist as he tried to shoot his left hand out from behind him to catch.  But it didn’t give, and his heart lurched in his throat as he realized he was going to fall.  And then, happening only within a millisecond of the realization, his free hand dragged down the section of the wall and caught the first stone it could. 

“Son of a bitch…”  He whispered, almost _laughing_ to himself.  And then he DID laugh, and he sprung again.  And as he laughed, he nearly cried too. 

It was only when he reached the top that he looked down- and it was only when he saw Malik, mouth hanging agape, in the doorway, that he realized it was already morning.

No, there really was nothing they couldn’t do. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ah wow sorry I haven't been all that active lately! I've been busy with moving into college (which is tomorrow so help me god) that I haven't had much time to write D: 
> 
> This fic I may expand into a full-length one if there's enough interest in that.


End file.
